


Twilight of a God

by GoodOldBaz



Category: Inspector Morse & Related Fandoms, Inspector Morse (TV), Inspector Morse - Colin Dexter
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt, Near Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 16:10:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18167333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodOldBaz/pseuds/GoodOldBaz
Summary: Alternate Ending to the Morseverse. I’m a soft hearted, emotional person, and I can’t stand it when main characters die. So here ya go.





	Twilight of a God

“Sergeant... Lewis?" came the hesitant voice of a nurse from around the corner.  
Robbie Lewis looked up, hastily wiping the dampness from his reddened cheeks.  
"Yes?" he replied, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.  
"Your wife's on the telephone for you. It's your mother, I'm afraid. She's taken a turn for the worse and your father wants the whole family together in case... well..." The nurse’s voice trailed off. Robbie would have thought she would be more used to this sort of thing. Perhaps she was new.  
"It's alright," he said, standing, with a sigh, from his chair. "I've known this was coming for a while."  
"I'm very sorry, Sir," the nurse said gently. "About your mother, and your friend."  
Lewis hesitated, looking down at the man who lay, without moving, in the hospital bed before him.  
"Thanks," he said quietly, not looking back up at the nurse. He reached out a hand and gently touched Morse's arm.  
"See you in a bit, Sir," he said under his breath.  
As he turned away to leave the room a doctor came bustling past him and up to Morse. Lewis watched him for a moment.  
"What's it look like, Doctor?" he asked. "How long before he wakes up."  
The still silence of the other man made a lump rise in Lewis' throat.  
“He is going to wake up?" he added quickly, unsure if his words were a question to the doctor or a statement to himself.  
The doctor turned around slowly. "I'm very sorry," he said, wringing his hands a little. "But I have to tell you the truth. Your friend is dying. He has a very weak heart and it’s a wonder we were able to revive him at all after the attack. Every day we keep him breathing his heart gets a little bit weaker. Without some sort of miracle, your friend won’t make it to the morning. If you must leave now, I'd advise saying your goodbye now as well."  
Lewis felt as if someone had thrust a knife into his stomach. He couldn’t believe the words he was hearing.  
“No, that can’t be,” he found himself saying.  
"I'm sorry," the Doctor said gently. "But better to know now, than come back later and find him gone."  
Lewis nodded vaguely, not looking at the man opposite him. "Of course. I – I understand. Could I have a moment, alone with him?" he asked.  
"Of course," the doctor nodded. "I'll be back in say, 20 minutes? Will that be enough time?"  
20 minutes? To say all he wanted to say to this man, his best friend. To say goodbye? 20 years wouldn’t have been enough time.  
"I should think so, yes,” he said against his feelings.  
"Alright then. If you need more time just tell me."  
The middle aged sergeant said nothing as the doctor and the nurse passed out of the room. Slowly, he walked up beside the bed and stood there. He looked down at Morse. His face was pale, thin, and emotionless. His body was old, almost frail, and a great deal thinner than he had been in years. Barely recognizable in some ways. Lewis felt angry, lost, and confused. He felt so many emotions he was fairly overcome. He wanted to reach out and touch him, hold him, wake him and make him be alright again. But he couldn’t. He was helpless.  
“Damn you, Morse,” he groaned, slamming his hand down on the bed. “Why can’t you wake up?” He hesitated. But how could he be angry at Morse, of all people. He couldn’t stop himself from dying. No one, it appeared, could stop that now. He thought suddenly of his mother. He knew he had to leave, so slowly, ever so slowly, he leaned down, gently running his hand over Morse’s thinning hair.  
"Goodbye, Sir," he said, carefully leaning forward and pressing his lips to his inspector’s forehead. He stood straight, swallowed, and turned and left the room.  
All the rest of that day he found himself sitting around a different hospital in a different town, waiting for a doctor to come out of a room and tell him his mother was gone. He found himself waiting for something else as well. He was waiting for a phone call. A phone call which would tell him that Inspector Endeavour Morse, his best friend, was gone.  
Eventually, it came. A young doctor came out of the room with his father. He noticed, as ever, that his father was not crying. He wiped his face as his father came close. His mother had passed away, peacefully, at the ripe old age of 87.  
And now it was time to go home. It was late, nearly midnight nowt. Lewis couldn't see why the other hospital had not called. They said they would. Without really thinking, he told Val to go home, got into a cab, and made his way back to the hospital.  
It felt like a dream, a bad one, walking down the hall, wondering if they had already moved someone new into Morse’s room. He stopped when he saw a congregation of doctors huddled around the door to Morse's room.  
"It's happened," he said to himself. "He's gone."  
As he walked closer one of the doctors reached out a hand to stop him.  
“Excuse me,” he said, “Are you family?”  
“As good as.”  
"I've got to prepare you for what you're going to see in there," the doctor said quickly.  
"I’m a policeman, Doctor," Lewis said sharply, just wanting to get to his friend. "I've seen dead bodies before."  
"But, erm… that’s not what you’re going to see, Sir.”  
Lewis hesitated. "What?” he said flatly, not yet making sense of the situation.  
“Your friend, Morse, am I right?”  
Lewis nodded.  
“Well,” continued the doctor, “It’s fairly a miracle, I mean, we didn’t think he’d wake up let alone this!  
“What’s going on?” Lewis asked, starting to push past the doctor to the room.  
“He’s made an almost complete recovery – his heart is pumping like he’s 20 years younger!”  
Lewis felt for a moment that he could not more. "I thought you said, I thought..."  
“So did we,” said the doctor, “We can’t explain it.”  
The doctor opened his mouth to say more, when Lewis heard a voice. A voice he never thought he’d hear again. He suddenly found new energy and pushed past the huddle of nurses and doctors and into the little room. He stopped dead in his tracks a few feet away from the bed. There Morse sat there, alive as could be, propped up with pillows and munching contentedly on a piece of toast.  
"Sir!" Lewis cried out, hardly able to breathe, "They told me-!"  
"I know, Lewis," Morse smiled ironically. "I should be dead."  
It was all he could do not to grab the man and hug him. Restraining himself, though, Lewis reached out and took Morse by the arm. "Sir, I – I can't tell you how happy I am!"  
"They tell me,” Morse said softly, “That the very first thing I said when I woke up was your name."  
Lewis felt a warm, comfortable feeling rise up in his chest.  
"Oh really, Sir?" he smiled wryly.  
"Don't let it go to your head," Morse grinned.  
Lewis sat down beside his friend, overcome with the day’s emotions.  
“They say they can’t explain how you managed it,” he said, running his hand over his hair.  
“I know what it was,” Morse said, continuing to much at his toast.  
Lewis flashed a glance at him. “Sir?” he said.  
“You still owe me that beer, remember?" Morse laughed. “I couldn’t very well let you get away without making us even.”  
Lewis found himself laughing. “Well if that’s the case,” he said, “I’m never buying you another beer in your life.”


End file.
